Apples and Cigarettes
by gloryblastit
Summary: Cherry goes to the snack bar with Johnny instead of Ponyboy...maybe a oneshot. Just for fun.
1. Default Chapter

Of course I noticed them when they sat behind us at the movies. Three hoods. But they had a tragic street thing all the soc guys didn't have. A vulnerable kind of…I don't know. I guess I wanted to rescue them, especially the one with the jet black hair and big eyes.

Dallas Winston. I'd heard of him. In and out of jail all the time, now hassling me.

"Leave her alone, Dally." The dark haired one said when Dallas tried to put his arm around me. I liked his voice, husky and deeper than I thought it would be.

Dallas scowled and left and we all watched him go, the lights shining off his platinum blond hair.

We asked the boys to sit up with us and they smiled crooked smiles at each other and agreed. Ponyboy sat between Marcia and me and Johnny sat next to me. This close to him I could see the faded threads of his denim jacket, the nervous way he looked off to the side, and the shiny scar across his cheek.

One of their friends came, snuck up on the boys and scared them. Johnny shut his eyes and sucked in his breath, let it out in ragged gasps. I liked how his thick dark lashes looked against his tan skin, the way his lips were slightly parted. I felt dizzy looking at him.

"Johnny," I said after he'd calmed down and had a cigarette. He looked at me with wide eyes.

"Come with me to get some popcorn," He got up, eyes darting to his friends and back to me.

At the snack bar I noticed the curious looks we were getting. Can't blame them, really. I knew I looked classy in my expensive clothes, my tasteful makeup. And Johnny, his hair slick and gleaming with grease, his clothes all torn, worn out, faded.

The line was long and not moving fast. Mostly middle class kids in their jeans and nice shirts. Johnny and I both stood out.

I held my head high, chin tilted up. He ducked his head, not daring to meet anyone's eyes, especially mine.

"What happened?" I said, lightly touching the scar on his cheek. He flinched a little.

"Fight," he mumbled.

I could smell the popcorn, butter and salt. I watched the hot dogs spin in the hot glass case. The middle class kids milled around, glancing at me and Johnny.I looked back daring them to say anything. Johnny looked fearful that they would.

We got the popcorn, some sodas. Both our hands were full when we left the bright snack bar. There were picnic tables near the door and I put my armful of popcorn and soda down.

I backed Johnny up against the wall of the snack bar. He looked at me suspiciously. Suddenly I wanted to kiss him, thought he looked cute with his collar flipped up and his hair in his eyes.

"Hey," I said softly, a little smile on my lips. I pressed up against him and he dropped the soda and popcorn. The soda ran in a caramel colored river around his sneakers.

"What?" he said back, his voice just above a whisper. I kissed him, my tongue gently exploring his mouth, tasting the soda he just drank, the cigarettes, and a taste like apples, dark and sweet.


	2. ch2

He surprised me by kissing back, moving so that I was against the wall. I felt a pull, a neat twisting of my stomach I didn't feel with Bob anymore.

We were the same height, me and Johnny. He had high cheekbones and such dark hair and eyes, maybe he was Indian.

"Hey," he said, then kissed me again. He was a little clumsy and inexperienced, but it was cool, raw.

"What?" I said it so softly, pulling away.

"Let's take off,"

I shook my head no. We couldn't just up and leave everybody. But I could see them from here, saw how chummy Marcia and Two bit were getting. That left Ponyboy. Odd man out.

"What about Ponyboy?" I said, still peering over at them, smaller in the distance. Two bit touched Marcia's hair, and she tilted her head and laughed. Ponyboy innocently watched the movie, glancing at the two of them from time to time.

"What about him?" Johnny said, looking over at them, squinting.

"Well it's…I don't know,"

"He'll be fine," Johnny said, taking my hand, "c'mon," He pulled me along and I went with him, surprised at how persuasive he was. He walked fast and I had to run a little to keep up, my dress swirling a little as we went.

We went out the back way, slipping out.

"They'll think we were kidnapped or somethin'," Johnny laughed, and I liked how it felt holding his hand, letting him pull me along.

"Where are we going?"

"Shhhh…you'll see," he said.

Down back alleys, past the drug store and the Dingo, Jays. Into neighborhoods I didn't know, had never seen. I felt like I was on an adventure.

We reached a brick apartment building, small windows, iron fire escapes nailed to the side.

"Through here," Johnny said, climbing through an open window. I looked around, hesitated, then climbed in.

We were in an apartment that was lit only by the large neon sign across from it, and there was an old couch, nothing else.

"Who lives here?" I said. The living room led to a tiny kitchen, the matted rug stopping at worn linoleum.

"No one. Squatters' rights," he said, and came over to where I stood, put his arms around my waist. I kissed him again. It wasn't like I hadn't kissed Bob a thousand times, but with Johnny it was softer, sweeter. And this place, I knew we weren't supposed to be here, whatever squatters' rights were.

We kind of fell on the couch, he was on top of me and I liked his weight on me, we kissed so long I forgot where I was.

Then he pulled away, smiled at me. He took a cigarette out of his pocket.

"Want one?" he said.

"Sure," I took it though I didn't smoke. It was a night for new things. Necking with greasers, smoking, hanging out in deserted apartments.

He smoked like James Dean in a movie, like he'd been doing it all his life. I lit mine, inhaled, started coughing. Johnny eyed me and smiled. I felt my cheeks turning red.

When I could breathe and talk again I took a smaller puff, blew out smoke, started to feel the happy buzz of nicotine.

"How long have you smoked?" I said, envying his practiced ease.

"Uh, seven years, I guess,"

"Seven years!" I scrambled around in my mind for his age, what had he said? He was 14? No, 16.

"You started smoking when you were nine?"

"I reckon," Calm, smoking another cigarette. Nine? I felt kind of sad, all of a sudden. What kind of life had he had that he'd start smoking at nine years old?


	3. ch3

I heard a rustling outside, and boys' voices. The voices sounded slurred. Johnny glanced quickly out the window, put out his cigarette on the bottom of his sneaker and pitched it, then grabbed my arm.

"C'mon," he said. I followed, he still had my arm. We went through the door to the hall.

"What? Why? Who was that?" I said, blinking in the new darkness.

"Could be a gang, they use that apartment, too," he said, and on the other side of the door I heard drunk voices and the clink and slosh of beer bottles.

"Why did we have to leave?" I said, and my eyes had adjusted to the gloom of the hallway. There were fist size holes and gouges along the narrow walls. Graffitti, obscene words and drawings.

"It's better," Johnny said, heading down the hall.

"Don't you know those guys in those gangs?" I was puzzled. I thought he was actually in a gang himself.

"Some of them," he said, and we were on stairs, three of them, that lead to the front door. And out into the night again, the wind grabbing my hair. Johnny leaned me up against the building and kissed me.

"Why'd we have to leave?" I said between kisses.

"It's better that we do. Because of you," He didn't say it mean, just matter of fact, "you ain't the typical girl I've brought here,"

"You've brought other girls?" I said, smiling, teasing him. He ducked his head, "yeah," he said.

"Where do you live?" I said.

"Near here," he said vaguely.

"In an apartment?"

"No. A house,"

"Let's go to your house?"

"Why?"

"I want to," I said, and he shrugged, gave in. Couple blocks over, salt box single frames, most with porches. Junk in the yards, junk on the porches.

"Hear that yelling?" he said, stopping. I listened. Faintly I heard yelling. The high tones of a woman answered by the baritone of a man, and the sound of objects crashing into objects, into walls.

"Yeah,"

"Well, that's my folks. So let's not go to my house, okay?"

"Okay," Wow. It was louder now, and the voices sounded more angry, more desperate. Johnny bit his lip and looked away from me.

"Okay," I said again, and touched his cheek so he'd look at me. He smiled a little, but his eyes were sad.

"So where should we go now?" I said.

"Beats me,"

I snaked my hand into his, entwining our fingers. From the corner of my eye I saw a slow moving blue Mustang and dragged Johnny behind a car.

"Shit," I said. He watched the Mustang with big eyes and I noticed he was breathing faster.

"That was Bob," I said, watching the Mustang sail past us.

"Your boyfriend?" he said, his voice steady. But he was trembling.

"Yeah, the one I left at the movies because he was drinking…" I looked at Johnny in alarm. He closed his eyes, looked pale all of a sudden.

"He's kind of a jerk when he drinks. Johnny, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," he said in that same steady voice, and fumbled a cigarette from his pack. After a few drags some of his color had come back and his breathing had slowed down.

"You sure?" I said.

"Yeah, everything is fine,"

He was lying, but about what I wasn't quite sure. He smoked the cigarette to the filter and watched for the Mustang.


	4. ch4

"Is he mad?" Johnny said, coolly blowing the smoke.

"Bob? Yeah. But he'll get over it," I flipped my hair off my shoulders with a quick toss of my head. Johnny nodded and an idea came to me, why he was acting kind of funny about Bob. But I shook my head and dismissed it.

We walked again and ended up in a vacant lot. Johnny started a fire then pulled me down on a broken old seat from a junked car.

I could see the stars pretty good in this spot, and leaned my head on Johnny's shoulder. He slung his arm around me. I liked this. I liked how he was kind of shy but kind of sweet. How different he was than Bob.

The fire crackled and threw off a steady heat, and I felt sleepy all of a sudden. Johnny kissed my temple and I liked that, too.

"Mmmmm. I like you," I said sleepily, and felt him kind of smooth my hair. My eyes felt so heavy and I shut them. Fell asleep.

"Hey, Cherry. Cherry, c'mon, wake up," Johnny was shaking me a little and I blinked at him, totally disoriented. I was cold and the leaves shook and rattled together in the strong wind. The fire had gone out.

"Johnny?"

"Yeah?"

"It's late, isn't it?"

"Yeah,"

I sat up, rubbed my arms over my thin sweater.

"Oh no. Bob," I said, panic filling my mind, making me restless. Johnny looked groggy, his eyes still half closed.

"Johnny, Bob and Randy will be looking for us, we can't stay here,"

He yawned, tucking his chin against his chest.

"Where are we gonna go?" he said.

"My house," I stood up, tried to get him to stand up by pulling his arm but he pulled away.

"Your house? Don't you live like 20 miles from here? I don't got a car,"

"It's okay. We'll take a cab,"

"A cab? Cherry, I'm flat broke,"

"Don't worry. I have plenty of money,"

We got a cab and sailed over to the south side. Johnny got a little wide eyed when the cab slowed down in front of my house.

"Um," he swallowed, looked out of place at the edge of my driveway, "your parents are here?"

"Yeah. But they're sleeping," I put my finger to my lips…quiet…and slipped the key from my pocket. I opened the door, grabbed Johnny's hand, and snuck him up to my room.

He looked around, dazed by all the ruffles and satin, the piles of stuffed animals, the thick rose colored carpet.

"Shit, Cherry, if your parents find me in here…" He shook his head, shoved his hands in his pockets. I felt a little thrill of fear at the thought.

"Don't worry. They won't wake up,"

My whole room was kind of soft and pastel. Johnny looked so, it was kind of hard to explain. I hadn't noticed how dirty his clothes were, how much grease he put in his black hair. He looked like the most real thing that had ever been in here.


	5. ch5

It wasn't my parents he should really worry about. All they'd do is frown at him and tell him, in polite icy tones, to leave. And then they'd yell at me.

He should worry about Bob. If Bob ever found out he was up here with me he'd beat him to a bloody pulp.

Johnny was relaxing a little, as he saw that my parents weren't going to come barging in on us. He shrugged out of his jacket and looked cute in just the black tee shirt.

"So what should we do?" He asked softly, licking his lips, looking at me with that look. I felt my stomach kind of lift drop, the same feeling as when a roller coaster plunges down from its highest point.

"Um, well…" I slipped out of my shoes and took off the thin sweater slowly, up over my head.

He came over to me, wrapped his arms around me. He felt so warm, And I could feel the muscles in his arms, traced his bicep with my fingertips. He kissed me and I closed my eyes, shutting out everything except the sensation of his arms around me, his tongue gently playing against mine.

He was so real, I thought it again. Not like Bob in his fancy clothes and expensive car, covered in his wealth like armor, no one could touch him.

Nothing protected Johnny. He was so vulnerable in a way Bob never would be. I opened my eyes and peeked at him, saw his dark lashes curling a bit, brushing his cheeks. His black bangs fell across his forehead. His fingers fiddled unskillfully with the clasp of my white lacy bra, and in the movement of his tongue and his closed eyes I could tell he was concentrating on it. Then he got it and slipped the bra off my shoulders, tossed it gently to a corner of the room.

"Cherry," he said in a breathless little way, his eyes barely opened. He pushed me toward the bed and I fell on it and he fell on top of me, cupped my breast in his hand. I noticed his nails were all bitten down, noticed how dark his hand looked against my white skin and how that was somehow exciting…

His other hand was under my long skirt, touching my thigh, the top, then sliding to the inside. I sucked my breath in and wriggled my hips on the bed, closed my eyes when I felt his finger slip inside.

"Cherry," He whispered in my ear and I felt a shiver. His finger hadn't stopped, it wriggled and explored even as he spoke to me, and I had a hard time speaking back.

"Yeah?"

"Can we, do you mind if we…" He trailed it off, kissed me instead, but I knew what he wanted to ask. I wanted it, too.

"Yes," I said, and laid back, watched him undo his jeans and shove them down, watched him flip up my skirt and pull off my underpants.

I wondered if he'd done this before with some other girl, some greaser girl who swore and wore lots of make up, a girl who came from a bad home like he did. He slipped it in with little effort and I thought he must have, he couldn't be a virgin.

It felt good, his rhythm different than Bob's. When he got close to going he squeezed his eyes shut and looked like he was in pain. I felt pain, too. The sharp stabbing pain of the missionary position, and he tensed, all his muscles contracted and I felt the pulse of his orgasm, thought of the disapproval of my parents, thought about the pure rage Bob would feel if he knew.

It felt so good to be bad.


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you sure?" The late morning sun streamed through my lacy curtains. Johnny nodded at me, shrugged into his jean jacket.

"They won't yell at you, I swear. They'll yell at me when you're gone,"

He found his sneakers and slipped into them, looked up at me from under his bangs.

"No. You don't need to get yelled at cause of me,"

He came over to me, put his hands on my shoulders, and kissed me. I didn't want him to leave.

"Hey, I'll see you soon, okay?"

I nodded at him. He climbed out my window onto the roof and then down the fire escape. I watched him tuck his hands in his pockets and walk off toward the North side. It was so far away but he said he didn't mind. He walked all the time.

x…….x……..x………x……….x……………..x…………….x…………….x

Saturday morning. My parents were having brunch, pancakes and fruit, our maid unobtrusively refilling coffees.

"Cherry dear, did you have fun last night?" My mother said this and lit one of her long brown cigarettes and puffed delicately, blew the smoke toward my face. They smelled faintly of mint. She bought them at some ritzy place in New York City.

"Yes, actually, I did," My mother nodded at me and my father rattled his paper. It occurred to me again how mad they would be if they knew I'd snuck off with Johnny and spent the night in bad neighborhoods. It was stupid. They liked Bob and would dislike Johnny for all the wrong reasons.

And already I wanted to see him again, wanted to watch him duck his head, look at me from the corners of his eyes.

I sighed. I couldn't. We weren't in the same world. It was just one night, not really a part of my life but something outside it. Today I'd have to go back to Bob and all his money, all his bad habits.

x…………x……………x………………x……………x………….x……….x………..x

"I think they're mad," Marcia sipped her coke. We were at a diner, all smooth counters and leather seats. I sipped my coke.

"Of course they're mad,"

"But not at us. At those greasers we were with. I think they're going to go after them,"

"I wouldn't doubt it," I knew I got a glassy, distant expression. I thought of Johnny walking home, hands tucked in his pockets.

"So where'd you sneak off to last night?" Marcia's eyes sparkled like she knew exactly what I'd done.

"Oh, you know," Vague. I usually was one to kiss and tell. Marcia knew every detail of what went on with me and Bob, and George before him, and David. But somehow I didn't want to tell her much about Johnny.

"What about you?"

She smiled, twirled a strand of dark hair around her index finger.

"What? Did you hook up with that kid with the sideburns? What was his name?"

"Two bit," she said, her voice almost shy. I had to smile. Marcia never looked like that when we talked about Randy.

The bells near the door tinkled and we both looked up. A tall blond boy in a leather jacket strolled in. I stared at his hair, nearly white it was so blond, and his narrowed pale blue eyes.

"Dallas Winston," Marcia whispered and of course it was, how could I not have known? He looked up and saw us, his gaze focused on my red hair. He came over, a slow smile spreading on his face.


End file.
